The Nutcracker
by Asori
Summary: Once upon a time, in the town of Mission Creek, there was great excitement. It was only days before Christmas, and there was going to be a wonderful party at the Davenport mansion. Little did a certain bionic know of the adventures that night would hold for her.
1. The House Party

**AN: Merry Christmas, everyone! This story is a** _ **Lab Rats**_ **version of** ** _The Nutcracker_** **if you haven't figured it out already (which you probably have), but I threw in some of my own little twists. I promise that this is not copying Stardust16's hilarious _The Nutty Cracker_ (you should check it out), we just happen to by psychic xD I did take this on a very different spin than she did, and I hope you like it! I thought of it on December 12th this year, and my first thought was 'This is awesome! I have to do it!' My second was literally this: 'OH NO! How will I ever finish before February!?' Hehehe... mental breakdowns, am I right? It's not like this is super long, but this kind of plot and story quality is difficult for Asori here to chew out in less than two weeks, especially during the craziest time of the year... But heyyyy... I decided that it would be ludicrous for me to wait to post the first chapter until the story was done (gasp!), but I figured that since it's short enough and I know exactly where it's going (it _is_ based on a classic, after all), I could make an exception so that I'm posting at least part of it during the holiday season. So updates will be irregular for once, and maybe the quality won't be super amazing. But I'll do my best.**

 **About this story: it is set shortly before the _Lab Rats_ episode _Twas The Mission Before Christmas_ in season two, there are far more characters than listed, and it is rated T for a battle scene - I did not write graphically so that this remains PG in essence, true to the show, and maintains the spirit of the season, but neither did I write terribly vague so that your mind can't fill it in. It's not meant to be disturbing at all, but it _is_ violence nonetheless. Please exercise caution if you are not comfortable with any kind of violence.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story! I recommend listening to _The Nutcracker Suite_ by** **Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky as you read this entire story; the music may not fit perfectly because this is an adaptation to the original story/performance, but it should give you a pretty good feel for the scenes. I also recommend checking out Frank Ticheli's _Abracadabra_ for this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Lab Rats_** **,** ** _The Nutcracker_** **, most of the characters, or even the basic plot. Anything that deviates from these two amazing works is probably mine, though.**

* * *

"Ugh! I can't believe it!" Bree ranted as she stormed into the living room, plopping down with an angry huff. "I hate you, Chase!" It didn't matter that he had offered to fix her phone – he had been the one to destroy it in the first place.

"What's wrong now?" Mr. Davenport asked from the kitchen, but before the emotional teenage girl could answer, he said "You know what? I probably don't want to know."

"Chase was trying to pull one of his stupid pranks on me again, and he ruined my phone!" Bree told him anyways. "Why do my brothers have to be such _idiots?_ "

Mr. Davenport sighed, pausing in setting out gourmet finger foods to rub his face tiredly. "Bree, can you forget about it for tonight? I can't have my upset daughter ruining the awesome vibes of _me_." He flashed her a self-satisfied grin, which she returned with a dark scowl.

"This is my _phone_ we are talking about!" Bree exclaimed. "If you didn't want us ruining your stupid party, you should just make us stay in the lab."

"But this is your first Christmas – you need to experience a real party. I regret not doing this before, and I want you three to celebrate with us."

"Tasha will kill you if she finds out that you locked us in the lab," Bree deadpanned.

"Pretty much," Mr. Davenport shrugged. "So you three are just going to have to get along and try to have a nice time with everyone else, alright?"

"Nuh-uh, I am not having anything to do with Chase! He's going to stay in the lab until he's fixed my phone – I already went over this with him."

"That's not fair to him-" Mr. Davenport started.

"Yes it is – he broke it, he fixes it."

"That's not what I meant – he might miss the entire party."

"And that will be his fault."

Mr. Davenport heaved another sigh. "Come on Bree, try to have some Christmas spirit."

"After my phone is fixed," Bree said with her arms crossed stubbornly. "And if he comes up any time before, I will ruin your party."

Mr. Davenport groaned. "Fine, whatever. I have a lot of other things to worry about right now and I can't afford to stand here arguing with you anymore. Go get ready because the guests will start arriving in half an hour." With that he hurried from the living space into the hallway, shaking his head in disappointment.

* * *

Bree flipped her hair over her shoulder, briefly rolling her lips to make sure that her lipstick was evenly spread. Patting down her frilly emerald-green dress, she forced a smile as she exited the elevator, her red heels clicking lightly. She felt fabulous, and she was ready to forget about her phone and start this party.

She walked into the chatter-filled main living area, and she stopped with a small, disappointed frown. Most of the present people were adults, who simply stood around talking to each other as they nibbled on bite-sized delicacies and sipped their glasses of expensive wine. The few children present were far younger than she, and they chased each other or played with their toys. Unsurprisingly, Adam had joined in on their games, despite how much older and larger he was.

Bree both felt and looked put out – what kind of party was this? Talk, munch, ignore the ugly Christmas music in the background? Where was the real music, the dancing, the teenagers? Where were the cute boys, for cryin' out loud?

Seeing Mr. Davenport near the dining table where he was talking to a small number of adults, she marched over to him, tugging on the elbow of his suit. He turned with an expression of surprise before facing his colleagues again, finishing his sentence before saying to them "This is my daughter, Bree." He turned back to Bree. "Bree, this is Rachel, my managing accountant, Brett, the head of my design team, and John, my lead foreign accounts manager," he introduced, gesturing to each person respectively.

Bree gave them a quick smile before pulling her father figure aside, hissing "I thought this was supposed to be a party!"

"It is," Mr. Davenport said with raised eyebrows. "It's called a Christmas-themed business party, and it's for my favorite employees."

Bree's eyes narrowed. "You're lame."

Mr. Davenport gasped, bringing his hand to his chest as if in pain. "You did _not_ just say that!"

"You. Are. Lame."

"Donald Davenport is not lame – I'm awesome! I'm amazing! I'm incredible! I'm _awesome!_ "

"As awesome as your _Davenport Christmas_ album, which is terrible," Bree snapped. "Why did I get excited over this?" Before the billionaire could reply, she stormed off to the where the drinks were. Some party! If this was what a Christmas party was, then she wasn't impressed.

She surveyed her drink options; her choices were red wine, white wine, or water. Or juice boxes. "Kid-friendly, much?" she muttered as she sullenly grabbed a glass of ice water. She stepped away, sipping the cool liquid and boredly watching the happenings of the party.

As she was debating whether to call it a night and retreat elsewhere in the house, the front door slammed open and a figure leapt in dramatically, accompanied by the small screams of a couple of startled women near the door. He threw back his black cape and spread his gloved hands wide, dazzling them with a bright white smile. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen!"

It wasn't only his grand entrance that captivated all who were present; he was dressed in a dark purple suit tailored with intricate designs, a shimmering cape at his shoulders and simple black top-hat resting on his head. What was most intriguing about him was that a glittering mask obscured his face from his nose and up, hiding his identity.

Bree glanced over to Mr. Davenport and was surprised to see that he was looking around in confusion before stopping to scrutinize the intruder. Bree looked back to the stranger as well. Who was this guy, and why was he at their party?

"I believe that this is the Davenport mansion, where I will be joining you all tonight," he said grandly, whipping around once and raising his arms. His cape flapped around him and he faced them again, a large grin plastered on his face. "Let me start the evening off with my first act."

Bree's eyes found her father figure again, and she saw that he was still bewildered. He leaned over to speak quietly with the closest employee, who simply shrugged.

Bree focused her attention once more on the stranger, who had stridden in with flourishing movements. Bending slightly to take the hand of a young girl entranced with his act, he gently pulled her up, saying "How would you, young lady, like to see a doll dance?"

Her eyes lit up despite how she squirmed with shyness. A small smile peeked out from her chubby cheeks as the man procured an ornate little doll, setting it on the coffee table. After shooting her a smile, he stepped back and waved his hands at the doll, wiggling his fingers. To the astonishment of his audience, the doll took a tentative step forward, then another. Bringing its hands up, it stood on one foot and twirled.

Clapping broke out among the onlookers; even Bree was kind of impressed. She had heard of magic shows, but she had never really given them much credit. Magic couldn't be possible, could it? _Maybe he's bionic,_ she thought wryly. _It was probably some sleight of hand, some use of technology,_ she reasoned.

"Thank you, thank you!" the stranger laughed, re-gesturing to the doll, which suddenly did a flying leap into a little jig. Light laughter swept over the group as the toy started doing the Macarena. People began clapping to an inaudible beat as the doll sped up its pace until it ended its show with a freestyle dance landing in the splits. A few cheers brightened the atmosphere as applause broke out.

"Thank you!" the man exclaimed again, a wide grin painting the visible portion of his face. "Now folks, would you like to see something a little more advanced? How would someone like to be a part of my next act?"

When no one volunteered, the entertainer looked directly towards Adam, saying "You, young man, would make a great dancer. How would you like to help me out?"

"You mean you want me to dance like this?" Adam asked, breaking out into (clearly) un-choreographed dancing with no rhyme, rhythm, or reason. Bree rolled her eyes in exasperation – that was her brother, alright. He couldn't dance to save his life, but he was certainly an expert at making a fool of himself.

"Almost," the stranger said, cocking his head. "But thank you for the demonstration of your skills – can we agree that your dancing is… at the beginner's level?"

"If it's even that," Bree snorted to herself.

Adam shrugged, saying "Okay. I'm always on that level anyways." Light laughter broke out, and many eyes fell on Mr. Davenport. The billionaire seemed to sink, waving off their looks of amusement as if to say "What? No! That's not my son!"

The entertainer commanded everyone's attention again, saying "So all of you have seen Adam's dancing, right?"

Bree frowned. How had the man known Adam's name? Her confusion cleared as she realized that this guy must have briefly talked to Adam while everyone was distracted. She returned her focus to what was going on.

"…here, and you're going to show everyone what you've got, alright?" the man was saying.

"But how do I do that if I'm not allowed to move?" Adam asked, quite befuddled.

"You'll see," the entertainer said with a sly smile. He stepped back and waved his hands towards Adam, wiggling his fingers once more.

Slowly, Adam's left leg began shaking uncontrollably. The oldest bionic's eyes widened and he grabbed it, trying to steady it. But it was to no avail. Moments later his right leg began shaking, and then he was forced to stand up straight, his arms lifting.

The audience was holding its breath, absorbed by this phenomenon. No one could look away from the boy who was gradually moving more fluidly and with more purpose. His arms stretched out as his knees bent gracefully, before he catapulted into the air and performed a series of twists and dips, a living, moving work of art.

Loud clapping and cheering broke out, a couple people even whistling their approval of the show. The stranger's smile faltered, but he regained his composure quickly, leading Adam through more maneuvers.

"Now Adam, why don't you teach me some of those moves?" the entertainer asked light-heartedly.

"Okay, but you'll have to show me how to do them afterwards," Adam joked.

There was some more laughter, including the masked man's. With another wave of his hands, Adam shimmied sideways, ending with a spin and plant. After watching this, the stranger copied the move, ending up directly next to the oldest bionic. Only then did Bree realize how much Adam towered even over this guy.

Adam then slid to his left, tapping his feet in a complex rhythm with the entertainer closely following suit. They continued this, slowly growing more and more in sync until they moved as one, every movement exactly together. _This is freaky cool,_ Bree decided.

They ended the act with a leap straight up, pulling their legs up to meet their hands before landing gracefully into a splayed-out pose filled with pride. Both were panting through their grins, Adam standing up straight again as he was released from the mysterious spell.

Loud cheering and clapping filled the room, the entertainer also standing up straight and bowing while repeatedly shouting "Thank you, thank you very much!"

When he didn't do anything else, the applause soon died down and the partiers returned to their previous conversations after comments on the performance they had just witnessed and their complements to Mr. Davenport.

The stranger then weaved his way over to the billionaire, the two of them shaking hands and speaking amiably. Bree watched them for a moment before turning away with a shrug. Who was this guy? She decided that it didn't really matter; what mattered was that she had seen an amazing show in her own living room. A bonus was that it involved the embarrassment - however mild - of her older brother.

 _I guess I could get used to this if all Christmas parties have entertainment like this,_ she thought to herself with a small shrug, sipping from her half-empty glass of water. If only Leo had been here to see this – he and Tasha were at their own Christmas party at Rose's, and Mr. Davenport and the bionics had been pointedly uninvited. Unable to ever say no to Rose, Tasha and Leo had accepted her invitation for the evening.

 _Mr. Davenport probably threw this party so that he wouldn't feel left out,_ Bree realized smugly. The famous billionaire inventor simply couldn't allow the reality of being on a _Do Not Invite_ list.

The sudden change from sluggish Christmas jazz to peppy Christmas radio classics caught Bree's attention, and she looked to see the entertainer messing with the sound-system, turning the music up. When it was set up how he wanted, he turned and addressed the small children, holding his hands out to invite them to dance with him.

It did not take much convincing to make the kids smile and giggle at the proposition, and taking the man's hands and each others', they swung and pulled each other around to the merry beat. Many of the parents in the room glowed at seeing their children so kindly engaged in a fun and – quite frankly – _cute_ manner.

To Bree's surprise, some of the adults also began to dance, couples swaying or jigging together and singing along to the tunes. She got so lost watching the movement of everyone around her that she was startled when she heard someone next to her say "Excuse me, young lady, but may I have this dance?"

She turned to see that it was the masked stranger, giving her a pearly white smile with his gloved hand proffered. "Oh, um, uh, yes," she squeaked as she hurriedly set her glass down, cursing herself for her awkwardness. The man's smile only grew, and his warm fingers wrapped around her own as she placed her hand in his, letting him guide her to an open space.

"You're not going to cast a spell on me too, are you?" she asked as smoothly as she could as she attempted to be funny.

"No," he chuckled with a sly grin, leading her into a fast-paced swing dance to the song of _Jingle Bell Rock_. He softly instructed her on what to do as they danced; step in, step out, the two moving together and apart rapidly to the beat. Bree caught on quickly, and knowing exactly what her feet were doing, she tore her focus from her feet and looked slightly upwards into his eyes, which met hers easily.

"Do I know you?" she asked between breaths, studying him closely. She could've sworn that those eyes were extremely familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn't place where she had seen them.

He laughed, saying "No, miss, I have not met you before this evening."

"What's your name then?" Bree pressed. She just knew that he was lying.

"My name? My name is a name among names, a name of many but also the name of me."

"I didn't ask for an awful riddle!"

The man smirked, shaking his head. "And what is your name, may I ask?"

"A name," Bree answered gauchely.

"I hope you have a strong stomach, _A Name,_ " he said suddenly, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. Before Bree could reply, she felt herself spun around and being flipped through the air. She squealed in surprise, landing gracefully before being pulled back into the standard swing dance.

"What was that?!" Bree demanded, shaking her hair back out of her face.

"That, young lady, was the Charleston Flip," he said, spinning her around one last time as the song came to an end. "Thank you for having this dance with me."

"You're welcome," Bree blushed awkwardly, still flustered from that dance move. He helped her climb out of the pose, and with that he gave her one last smile before turning and walking away.

Bree fixed her hair, her mind reeling. What had just happened? Was he romantically interested in her? She didn't think so – he had not wavered even once, nor had anything he had said or done come off as flirtatious. She was certain that if he wanted to flirt, he would be very good at it.

 _Besides, I don't know where he comes from, how old he is, what his name is, or even what he looks like,_ she reasoned as she walked back to where she had set down her water. _But wow, is he a good dancer!_

She searched him out, catching sight of him talking to a small group of other adults. It was unexpected that he actually seemed uncomfortable in that setting. _I suppose he's a doer, and not much of a talker._

Shrugging, she scanned over the rest of the party. When she saw that Adam was alone by the snacks, Bree decided that she would go kill some time with him.

"Wow, Adam, that was quite the show," Bree said as she came up to him. He turned, halfway through shoving a deviled egg into his mouth.

He quickly chewed and swallowed the egg, saying afterwards "Yeah, I don't even know how it happened. I just lost control of my arms and legs. I felt like Mary Annette."

Bree rolled her eyes, saying "You mean _a marionette?_ Yeah, well I just danced with him and even I had a hard time keeping up. Why do you think he's here?"

"Davenport says that it was probably a surprise from one of his workers," Adam replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I like the guy – he's like the fun uncle I never had – all we have is evil uncle-daddy."

"Douglas," Bree muttered, growing angry at the name. He had already tried to get them to join him in his evil plans, and when that didn't work he had tried to make sure that his android, Marcus, would destroy them. Marcus had failed and was now gone, but Douglas was still out there; Bree hoped that he wouldn't try to ruin their first Christmas outside of the basement.

The middle bionic was shaken from her thoughts when shrill squawks and giggles broke out among the young children, all of them crowding around the couch where a large bag sat. And lo and behold, there also was the masked man, digging around in that lumpy, bulging bag.

 _Ooo_ 's could be heard from the little kids as the entertainer produced a little toy sword, giving it to the nearest boy. Next came another sword for another boy, followed by a little doll for a girl; and so he pulled out toy after toy, giving each one to an ecstatic child.

Adam and Bree looked to each other before walking in closer so that they could better witness what was going on. They had only ever received gifts from Mr. Davenport directly, and any gift they had given their creator was handmade and quite useless. Seeing someone give gifts to people who had never done anything for them – to people they didn't even _know_ – was a new concept for the bionics.

The masked man noticed them as they approached, and he grinned, saying "I have something for you two as well, don't worry."

"Oh good; I _was_ worried," Adam sighed in relief. Bree shook her head in exasperation.

But then a thought hit her – what if this guy worked for Douglas, and these gifts were bombs or something? Bree bit her lip, unsure of how to handle this situation. She wished she could directly confront the man and do what she needed to do to keep everyone safe, but she couldn't expose her bionics. All eyes were on them, and Adam certainly wasn't going to turn down a toy despite the danger.

She glanced to her father figure, making eye-contact with him. He nodded encouragingly. She looked back to watch Adam accept a small, curly brass horn. He was beaming from ear to ear, and he eagerly brought it to his lips. With all his might, he blew into it, making it _toot!_ much as a fart sounded.

All the gathered kids doubled over with laughter, and Adam was down giggling with them. Bree sighed. _That's my immature brother, alright._ She doubted that anything could be threatening about a little metal noise-maker for Adam, so with a tentative smile, she took a step forward to accept what the man had brought for her.

Her eyebrows rose when she saw the beautiful little doll – it was wooden, carved and painted to be in the likeness of a regal soldier. His black hat and snowy white beard were even fuzzy. Staring into the doll's dark brown eyes, she carefully gripped the smooth wood and turned it, examining the workmanship. A warm feeling bloomed within her, and she hugged the doll to her chest, simply saying to the man "Thank you," with all the brimming emotion she was feeling.

 _It's just a doll,_ Bree told herself, but she couldn't ignore how it touched her so deeply – any gift she had received in the past always had a specific purpose and was meant to help her with her training. But this… this was special.

"Wow Bree, that doll is awesome!" Adam said from beside her, staring at the doll with wide eyes. He seemed to be just as entranced as she was.

"It's not a doll, it's a nutcracker," Mr. Davenport corrected the oldest bionic as he walked up from behind them. "There's a lever in the back and it opens and closes the mouth, enabling you to stick a nut in the mouth and crack it open. Hence the name."

"What does 'hence' mean?" Adam asked.

Mr. Davenport shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry about it, Adam." With that, he turned and left to seek out more intelligent conversation.

Bree would have been just as annoyed as the billionaire, but she had tuned the two of them out already. She could only stare at her exquisite gift.

She was rudely shaken from her reverie, though, by a hand grabbing her nutcracker and yanking it from her fingers. "Hey!" she exclaimed, looking to see that it was Adam, who was turning it over and thoroughly examining it. "Adam, give it back! That's mine!"

"But it's so cool!" Adam whined, holding it away from her.

Bree crossed her arms, scowling and stomping her foot once in her anger. "You have your nice little horn, so give me back my nutcracker."

"But yours is better," Adam pouted.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice interrupted, and they saw that it was the entertainer.

"No," Adam said quickly.

" _Yes,_ there is," Bree argued. "Adam wants to take my nutcracker!"

"You can have my horn," Adam offered, holding it out for her.

"No, the doll was _my_ gift, and I want _my_ gift!"

"Stop it, both of you! Adam, you need to give her back the nutcracker," the stranger commanded.

"But I don't want to," the oldest bionic replied childishly.

"Adam," Bree warned.

"Noooo!"

"Give it back!" Bree demanded, reaching up and grabbing her doll's arm. Trying to tug it away from her brother, she found that her efforts were futile; when trying to take something from someone with super strength, one didn't get very far. Bree gritted her teeth, pulling harder. To her horror, there was an awful _snap!_

"Adam, look what you did!" Bree gasped, fighting off welling tears. In her hands she held the disembodied arm of her precious nutcracker, pulled right out of the socket of the doll. She gave her older brother a look filled with hurt and fury.

"Give it back," the masked man growled, and between how distraught Bree was and the disappointed anger of the entertainer, Adam buckled, slowly giving the nutcracker to the man. The oldest bionic turned and left, his head downturned.

"Here, let me see that," the man said gently, taking the wooden arm that Bree gave him. He pulled out a white handkerchief, carefully wrapping it around the nutcracker's arm to keep it in place. When he was satisfied with how it held together, he offered it back to the middle bionic, saying "There, now it's as good as new."

"No it's not," Bree responded moodily.

The entertainer gave her a tired smile, saying "Don't let this ruin your evening – be happy that Sir Nutcracker can still smile to you."

Bree forced a small smile, but her eyes held no mirth. "That's his name?" she asked.

"Not necessarily," the man said. "Now, put this behind you, Bree, and be merry! It's the most wonderful time of the year!" That said, he left her with her doll, melting back into the fray. Bree looked back down to her poor nutcracker, wondering why her brothers had to be such jerks.

* * *

"I'm here!" Chase announced as he skidded into the room, but his face fell when he saw that it was empty save for his father-figure and bionic siblings finally finishing cleaning the main living area. "What, it's _over?_ " he cried.

"Too bad, so sad," Bree said irritably. "Does this mean that you fixed my phone?"

"Um, about that…."

"Really? And you had the nerve to still come up here anyways, even if the party's over?!"

Chase shrunk back, saying "Bree, I'm really sorry, but I can't fix it – it's… _un-salvageable._ "

"Ugh! I've had it with you two!" Bree shouted.

"Bree! Control yourself!" Mr. Davenport snapped.

"Don't side with them – they've been _terrible_ brothers today!" Bree yelled.

Adam and Chase stopped what they were doing, their features becoming downcast. They looked to each other for a moment before slinking out of the room.

Mr. Davenport stared after them before turning back to Bree angrily. "I've had enough of your selfish attitude today. You know what? You're going to finish cleaning up – that's your punishment, alright?"

"You're punishing _me_ after they broke my stuff?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm punishing you because you're the one acting out and refusing to forgive Adam and Chase. Even if they're in the wrong, they're still your brothers!" He huffed in frustration as he set down the dish towel, stalking out of the room.

"Well, they're sure lousy brothers then!" Bree called after him. She was spitting mad, and she had absolutely no will to clean anything up. Sniffing back furious tears, she stalked over to the couch where she had left her nutcracker, plopping down on the cushions.

Cradling her doll in her hands, she laid down, squeezing her eyes shut. _They hate me – they all hate me,_ she thought bitterly. And with that poisonous thought drifting through her mind, her exhaustion from the crazy evening overcame her, and she sunk into the world of dreams.


	2. The Rat King

Bree shifted, groaning softly. She hugged her arms closer to her chest, but a bolt of panic shot through her to rouse her from her waking dreams. Her hands were empty – her nutcracker was gone!

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before looking around. She was still on the couch in the living room, her shoes on the floor beside her where she had left them and the dishes she had neglected to clean up still strewn on the coffee table; only the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree illuminated the soft darkness. All was still, but not all was quiet.

Bree frowned, cocking her head as she became aware of a tinkling little melody floating through the air. She was alarmed to notice shadows coming to life, and she leapt to her feet. Long, snaky fingers danced on the walls, announcing the presence of countless rats and their waving tails.

The bionic's breath caught in her throat, and she spun around in shock. If she wasn't mistaken, she had noticed that the rats were steadily growing larger. And it wasn't just the rats growing; now that she studied the rest of her surroundings, she saw that everything else around her was also increasing in size – or she herself was shrinking. She craned her head back to see that the ornamented tree towered far above her, appearing as an extremely fat and bushy skyscraper from her new point of view.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the skritching and scuffling of the rats' soft, clawed feet scraping on the floor. While she wasn't afraid of rodents, she certainly didn't like them. The thought of them darting around, quietly circling her made goose-bumps race across her flesh.

A metallic _clang!_ rang out, and her eyes snapped open to land on the rats. But the rats were no longer simply rats – they stood back on their hind legs, and had all the appearance of men save for their greasy brown pelts and bald tails. Their faces were what really startled Bree, though. All of them had the same ghastly face, and it was a face that Bree knew all too well. The face of Marcus the android.

And the innumerable Marcus rats were not alone; battling them were toy soldiers in royal blue, white, and gold uniforms, and these noble soldiers, too, had an identical face. The familiar and equally friendly face of her youngest brother, Leo. Their faces were locked in expressions of determination and loathing for their archenemy, and they fought with much fervor against the rats.

Through the chaotic clashing of silver swords of the battling Leo soldiers and Marcus rats, two figures towered over the rest, stalking toward each other threateningly.

One was a dark figure, appearing much as his Marcus minions; standing upright and covered in dark brown fur, his pelt shimmered with a dark sheen, rippling with every stride. He was markedly different from the other rats with the tattered and glittering coat he wore, the coat tails visually balancing out his own ugly tail. His face was the face of Douglas, locked in a vehement snarl and stormy with evil desire. Adorning his head was a crown of woven thorn branches with seven rats' skulls circling it.

The other figure was one of elegance, of purity. He wore a red, white, and gold vestment, his right hand clasped tightly around the handle of his exquisite sword. Standing tall and taking strong steps, he seemed to pay no mind to his heavily bandaged left shoulder. Seeing the face of the large mask he wore, Bree gasped yet another time. This was her nutcracker in the flesh.

The two of them wove through the fighting easily, never taking their eyes from each other. It wasn't until they were directly face to face in the middle of the battlefield that they stopped, staring each other down with a passionate fury for each other. Few words were exchanged before the weapons were drawn, the both of them taking up their defensive stances.

Douglas struck first, making to stab the nutcracker, but the noble soldier jumped out of the way, deflecting the deadly blade as he did so. He deftly parried Douglas' following attacks, sneaking in his own every once and a while. Douglas' onslaught was most terrible, containing all of the hatred he possessed. This was his big moment, the moment that he intended to take out all of his pain and exact his revenge.

But the Nutcracker had no intention of letting his nemesis emerge from this encounter victorious. He fought with equal ferocity; his ferocity was not to destroy, but to protect. Bree could see this, but understand it? She only wished that she knew the cause of this intense conflict.

A battling Leo and Marcus stepped in front of Bree's view of the clashing commanders, and she gulped as Leo impaled Marcus in the gut, kicking the stiffened rat soldier to the ground before joining his fellow Leos in fighting the rest of the Marcus-rats.

The bionic's attention was jerked back to Douglas and the Nutcracker as she heard a chilling scream pierce the air. Time seemed to slow as her eyes landed on red, deep, dark, _wet_ red. The red seeped through and stained the mutilated snowy-white bandages on the Nutcracker's shoulder, and he clutched his maimed arm as he slowly sunk to his knees in pain and shock.

Bree felt herself scream in fury, but she heard not a sound. Blind with rage in that her dear nutcracker had been hurt again – the same arm in the same place, for that matter – she could no longer stand and watch this fight that was not her own. The injuring of the Nutcracker _made_ it her own now.

In a split second she sped over to them, catching the wrist Douglas' sword hand as he was bringing down the blow that would end it all for the Nutcracker. They both froze, he staring at her with confusion and frustration and she at him with utter loathing. As she studied his despicable face, it seemed to turn to Adam's face in a flash before becoming Douglas' again.

Burning anger rose within her – she could see it now. She could see her older brother in the face of Douglas, and both wanted only to take from her the beautiful nutcracker doll. That doll, it was like the beautiful life she now had with friends, school, and even a boyfriend - the thought of that being taken away... She was never going to allow that to happen.

With a yell of rage, she pulled Douglas' hand around and down, twisting it so that she could extract the sword. He tried to resist, grabbing her with his other hand and trying to rip her away from his weapon, but it was in vain. She was too fast and had already spun around him, cracking him over the head with the butt of the sword.

His eyes rolled up and he slumped to the ground, lying motionless. His crown lay broken around his head, his blood trickling lightly from both the head wound and the thorns pricking his scalp.

Bree merely stood over him, staring down at him viciously as she threw the sword down and away from them. The realization of what she had just done hit her, and she tried to shake off the goose-bumps it brought. What had warranted such a strong reaction? In playing it over in her mind, she also realized that she reminded herself of someone… of _Spike_. But this was no commando app – this had been entirely her.

And then she remembered what had triggered her into action. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a small O, and she spun quickly and dropped to her knees next to the shaking Nutcracker who lay flat on his back. Her stomach twisted with sickness at the sight of his half-severed limb, but she forced past it, putting a comforting hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"Shh, shhh, it will be okay," she breathed, almost more to herself than to him. She searched around quickly, looking for anything she could use as a new bandage to stop the blood flow. She spotted a cape on an unmoving Leo, and swallowing back her extreme discomfort, she got up and walked over to the body, gently removing it from his shoulders. The sight of her step-brother, so very dead….

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly turned away and hurried back to the Nutcracker as she choked back a sob. There was nothing she could do for that Leo now, and if she didn't do anything for her nutcracker soon, she would lose him too. It brought her some comfort that there were still other Leos up and running around, still full of the fervor of life.

Bree fell to her knees again, whispering "Okay, it's okay… I'm just going to move you a little like this…." The Nutcracker hissed in pain as she tenderly lifted him up a little, sliding the cape underneath him and wrapping it around the joint. "See, we're okay, you're going to be okay…" she continued.

She began to try to tie the ends of the cape together, but she was unable to for the trembling of her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, biting her lip and willing herself to put aside her torrential emotions and shock in order to simply get the job done. Opening her eyes, she focused solely on the movements of her fingers, refusing to allow herself to worry over the Nutcracker. One small task at a time.

"Thank you," the Nutcracker rasped, lifting his head so that he could see her. She glanced at him for only a minuscule moment before ducking her head and focusing even more intensely on what she was trying to do. _Don't think, don't think, don't think!_ she shouted at herself internally.

The Nutcracker simply studied her for a moment before laying his head back down again, taking a few heavy breaths as he bit his tongue. The pain made him want to curl up in a ball and die so that he would never have to ever feel that pain again, but he knew that that wasn't the right answer. Oh, how he wished he could sink into unconsciousness so that he might at least temporarily escape this pain. But oblivion did not come, and he was forced to merely continue to hold back his cries of anguish.

"There, that's all I can do," Bree said shakily, sitting back. She felt bad that she couldn't do better, but being the doctor (or instructing someone on how to be the doctor) had always been the role of Chase and Mr. Davenport. She could wrap things up nicely and administer medications, but surgery? Stitches? No, carrying out those medical procedures was not among her abilities.

"Thank-k you," the Nutcracker stuttered before clenching his teeth as he tried sitting up. He felt his blood drain, and dizzily he let himself down again. He had lost far too much blood to do anything at all.

"Just stay there, I'll watch over you," Bree promised as soothingly as she could. It struck her that none of Douglas' rats had attacked them while she had been tending to the Nutcracker, and she looked up to see the last of the Leos chasing and defeating the outnumbered Marcus-rats who remained. She watched as the enemy soldiers dwindled until there was only one Marcus left, and realizing that he could not be victorious, he turned and fled.

To the surprise of the bionic, the Leo soldiers did not celebrate or come see their leader, but instead receded, melting into the shadows that draped the battlefield. _Don't they care for the Nutcracker?_ Bree wondered, miffed on the behalf of the fallen commander.

She stared back down at him, making note of how his breathing had steadied and his muscles had relaxed. Through the eye holes of his mask, she could see that his eyes were closed peacefully. _Oh good, sleep will surely help him… right?_

Bree couldn't help noticing a change as she stared at the Nutcracker, and she looked up with a frown, scanning all around. Was it just her, or was everything growing darker? No, everything had to be getting darker – how could she imagine how the shadows were encroaching on them, becoming more and more potent with every passing moment? Her breath caught as she saw the dim glow of eyes appear, and it was not just one pair, but many, all blinking into existence.

Whipping her head around, the bionic saw that these eyes surrounded them completely. _Us – they're surrounding not me, the Nutcracker, and the fallen bodies, but just me, the Nutcracker, and Douglas. The other bodies – they're gone!_

The eyes crept forward, and when one of the pairs stepped into the faint light of their small circle, she saw that it was a Marcus. The rats were back.

"Get away!" Bree growled, jumping to her feet. But no matter how she spun to face them, her backside was always exposed, leaving the Nutcracker exposed on that side as well. There were too many – there was no way she could successfully defend the two of them.

But the rats didn't attack. To Bree's astonishment, the rats only continued to slowly slink forward, always watching her warily. When they were close enough to Douglas, they began dragging him with them back into the darkness, their wormy tails the last to disappear from sight.

When they were gone, Bree let her breath out and crouched back down into a kneeling position. She let her eyes wander back to the mask the Nutcracker wore, examining the beautiful yet simplistic painted features. The skin was painted a sweet peach color with rosy cheeks and nose, the eyes and mouth holes outlined in a dark brown. The mask even had a wispy white beard that sat nicely underneath its pointy nose.

A shuffling drew Bree's attention back to her surroundings, and alarmed, she saw that the eyes were back, watching her avidly as they slowly circled around. _They're stalking us!_ Bree thought worriedly. She rolled back onto her toes and planted her hands on the other side of the Nutcracker, crouching over him protectively. These rats would have to go through her to hurt her nutcracker again.

One stepped forward, and Marcus' ghastly face stared back at her coldly. His dark eyes were the last things she saw before she succumbed to a strange, unexplained sleep.


	3. Fantasia

**AN: Yes, it's been over a month since I last updated this story (it took me that long to write this); yes, it's not Christmas anymore, and yes, _Lab Rats_ is officially over D: but here is a Christmas-y chapter update for a Christmas story anyways to maybe make you feel better - you can thank the amazing daphrose, because while I hate to leave stories unfinished, I didn't think anyone would continue reading it (I would have eventually finished writing it, but I might not have posted it). But she proved me wrong, so thank you, daphrose!**

 ***sigh* This is why I prefer to finish stories before I post them - I broke my commitment in order to post the story in season, and, well... Unfortunately I have to post the big Spike story unfinished as well for a number of reasons, but all will be explained when the time comes.**

 **Soundtrack for this chapter: _Waltz of the Snowflakes_ from _The Nutcracker_ suite, _Carol of the Bells_ by Libera (one of my personal favorite songs _ever_ ), _Gaelic Earth_ by Adrian von Ziegler, and _Father Christmas_ from _The Chronicles of Narnia_ soundtrack. These songs go in that order, and you will know when to listen to them. A part of the story won't make as much sense without listening to the version of _Carol of the Bells_ I'm suggesting, so I highly recommend listening to the music :)**

 **Well then, let's get onto the rest of the story - enjoy!**

* * *

A chill swept through the air, stirring the middle bionic. Her eyes fluttered open to find that her head rested on the slowly rising and falling chest of someone. She gently lifted her head up, carefully trying not to wake them. Why had she been sleeping like that?

She looked to the face of the person and her confusion cleared. The Nutcracker.

 _The rats!_ she remembered, and she made to jump to her feet; realizing her surroundings, she paused, her head turning all around. Where darkness had lurked seemingly moments before, now a soft white brightness tainted with an innocent blue glowed benignly.

They were in a small clearing of a snow-covered forest, mounds of snow giving everything a supple, comforting feel. The trees were burdened with the snow as well, every last pine needle frosted and glittering. All was still, all was silent.

Bree relaxed, shifting herself into a more comfortable position. The snow underneath her was wet and cold, and she was dismayed to find that it was soaking through her party dress. The white fluff froze the exposed skin on her fingers, legs, and bare feet, and each breath was a puff of white steam in the crisp air. Snowflakes gently floated down from the blue-white clouded sky above.

 _What is this winter wonderland?_ she wondered in awe, blinking away the colorless flakes that dotted her eyelashes. She looked back down at her sleeping nutcracker; would he know what this place was?

Bree looked around again as she became aware of the distant chiming of tiny bells, twinkling in the stillness as stars might twinkle in the night sky. Their tinkling little melody set her on edge even if it didn't sound malevolent.

She sat up straighter, her muscles tensing in readiness as bright white figures melted from the snow into existence as they bounded forward, their movements delicate and graceful. Clothed in flowing dresses of glitter accented by stiff silver swirls, they were beautiful beyond compare. Their pale faces glowed with joy, their dark eyelashes curled and coated with sparkling ice to frame their bright blue eyes.

Bree opened her mouth to ask who they were, but she couldn't muster the voice to do so. She could only watch in fascination as they danced around her and her nutcracker, spinning ever closer to them. Her eyes shot upwards as she caught sight of more gently falling from the sky like the snowflakes all around. These had beautiful wings that shimmered in the monotonous lighting, their wing beats seeming to merely brush the air.

The bionic's ears picked up a new little melody adding to the bells, a dainty melody played by an invisible ensemble of flutes and violins. The fairies opened their mouths, adding their own lilting voices to the music. Bree began to struggle to keep eyes open; her eyelids seemed to grow heavier with every passing note.

Little lights began to join the snowflake fairies' dance, bobbing to the music as they spun through the air, leaving sparkling trails behind them. The music grew steadily louder and the fairies ever closer until Bree and the unconscious Nutcracker were surrounded by a wall of magic. Bree lifted her head back, opening her mouth to breathe deeply as she closed her eyes. She could feel the very buzz in the air from all of this otherworldly beauty.

A dull roar grew into existence, slowly overtaking all other sound and filling Bree's ears. It came to an almost unbearable volume until it exploded, the ringing of bells dying away and disembodied glitter dissipating with the sound. The fairies had disappeared, meekly dancing snowflakes in their place.

Bree gasped, opening her eyes and looking around again. She felt alive, full of energy and unexplainable happiness. These fairies had not been trouble at all – they were _good,_ truly good.

She looked up to the sky in time for an intricately shaped snowflake to touch down on her nose, glistening for a moment before it melted away. Sticking out her tongue, she caught another, feeling the quick spark of sugary cold before it was gone.

"The snow is sweet, isn't it?" Bree heard from beside her, and she lowered her gaze to meet that of the Nutcracker's warm one of amusement. "That's the trace the Snow Queen and her fairies always leave. They were here, weren't they?"

Bree nodded numbly. The vision of their graceful dance still lingered behind her eyes.

The Nutcracker's eyes crinkled as he smiled underneath his mask, and he said "I thought something woke me up." He slowly climbed to his feet, and offering Bree a white-gloved hand, pulled her up to stand beside him.

The bionic was speechless as she noticed his attire – once royal with red and gold, his clothes were now a pure, bright white, adorned with curling and weaving silver and gold that sparkled amiably. Upon his head rested a fabric crown decked with diamonds.

She looked down at herself, awed by the beautiful clothing she now wore as well. She wore a long, heavy white dress that fell to her ankles, the edges lined with silver and gold lace. Her feet were covered in tall white boots, delicately tied with gold string and topped with silver and gray fur. Over her dress she wore a matching fur coat that encompassed her with warmth. She closed her eyes, smiling with content; no more would she have to be wet and cold.

Opening her eyes once more, she met the Nutcracker's gaze and asked "Where are we? What is this place?"

"This is Fantasia, my lady. This is my home kingdom."

"It's beautiful," she breathed, taking in her surroundings yet once more. Everything seemed to be brimming with life even if nothing stirred. The silence was only broken by the soft chirping of a bird in the near distance.

"Will you join me in returning to my palace? I must honor you for saving my life – I cannot let my gratitude go unexpressed," he said, offering his arm for her to take. Seeing it, Bree frowned with concern.

"Isn't that your injured arm?" she questioned.

"Yes," the Nutcracker winced. "That is another reason why I must return to my castle – the fairies healed me enough for travel, but only the Sugar Plum Fairy can truly heal this war wound."

"Then I will go with you; I can't let you go back alone when you're hurt."

His eyes crinkled again, and he laughed "I would be fine, but I should be glad for your company." As she gently took his arm, he began leading her through the forest. Finding a winding path, they followed it past small outcrops of ice-glazed rocks within the dense forest, the snow thick and glittering all around.

As they walked in comfortable silence, Bree perked up as she heard a soft _Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells._

It was answered by a different voice singing _All seem to say: Throw cares away!_

Together they sang _Christmas is here bringing good cheer to young and old, meek and the bold!_

"What is that?" Bree whispered, mesmerized by the sweet song sung by such angelic voices.

"Those are the birds – they're welcoming Christmas, for it is almost upon us," the Nutcracker replied softly.

 _Oh how they pound, that is their sound! O'er hill and dale, telling their tale:_

 _Glória in excélsis Deo! Glória, glória!_ an entire chorus of birds sang suddenly, their sound breathtakingly loud and equally gorgeous. It was in that moment that the sun broke through the clouds, shining through the trees and painting the entire forest a bright gold.

"Wow," Bree breathed, stopping in place. The Nutcracker stopped beside her, and the two of them looked around in wonder at the beautifully singing birds perched in the trees circling above them. All shapes, colors, and sizes, their voices were broken into many harmonious parts, blending perfectly.

 _Ding, dong, ding, dong; that is their song! With joyful ring all caroling! One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere filling the air! Oh, how they pound, raising the sound! O'er hill and dale, telling their tale!_

 _Gaily they ring while people sing! Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here! Gaily they ring while people sing! Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here!_

 _Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas! Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas! On, on they send, on without end, their joyful tone to every home!_

 _Aaaahhhh, aaaaahhhhh!_ a single bird called sweetly.

 _Aaaahhhh, aaaaahhhhh!_ another answered.

Softly, they all together sang _Hark how the bells, all seem to say…_

 _Glória! Glória!_ they sang joyously with awesome volume one last time.

 _Ding, dong, ding, dong. That is their song,_ a small red bird finished.

"That was amazing," Bree said breathlessly as the birds dispersed, chirping and lightly beating their wings as they began doing what normal birds should. "Your birds sing!"

"Yes, and they are quite good, especially when singing to their Creator," the Nutcracker agreed. "Your birds don't sing?"

"Well, they tweet and stuff, but they don't sing words and harmonies," Bree replied simply.

"Then I'm glad you could hear ours."

They resumed walking once more, keeping their eyes open for anymore wonders they might encounter. Sticks cracking, the chittering of squirrels, the chirping of the birds, and the gurgling of flowing water filled the quiet of the woods. A gentle wind stirred the trees, making even them seem animated.

"Your world is beautiful," Bree commented.

"You live in a different one?" the Nutcracker asked.

"Yeah, ours is more advanced but not nearly as nice and magical as this one. I like this place."

"It makes me happy that my kingdom can bring you joy, my lady…" the Nutcracker frowned lightly, saying "I never caught your name."

"My name's Bree," Bree supplied. "You say that this is your kingdom – are you a king?"

"No, the king is my father. I am merely a prince."

"What is your name?" Bree questioned.

The Nutcracker seemed surprised that Bree was not even fazed by the fact that she was in the presence of royalty, but he answered her question anyways. "I am known simply as the Prince."

"You don't have a name?" Bree scoffed.

"No, I do, but I'm not going to tell _you_ what it is. No one calls me by it anyways."

"But I gave you mine!"

"So you did," the Nutcracker smirked.

Bree huffed with irritation. "Why is everyone hiding their identities?"

"Everyone? Who else is?"

"You don't know him," Bree waved him off.

Before the Nutcracker could respond, a hearty laugh broke out. A multitude of more laughter, giggles, cackles, and hoots followed, filling the air with careless mirth.

Bree slowed pace, her head whipping around as she tried to find the sources, but the invisible laughter was all around. "What's that?" she asked nervously.

"Those are the Pine Gnomes," the Nutcracker said through a large grin that was invisible to her.

"What are they laughing at?" the bionic asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, nothing at all! They are light-hearted creatures without a worry in the world – laughter and mischief is their pastime," the Prince explained merrily. "Come, let us continue on our way."

Bree still wasn't sure whether she should trust the Nutcracker's word, but she followed him anyways. To her dismay, the laughter stayed with them as they walked on; she would scrutinize everything around them, and occasionally she would see something small dart here, dive there. But never could she keep her eyes fixed on the little creatures long enough to actually know what they looked like.

The bionic was staring down a stump when she felt a strong hand on her arm, pulling her to a stop. She looked forward to see that they were standing at a cliff, the prince holding her back from the edge. To their right was the brook she had heard earlier, tumbling over the stark cliff. The clear water flashed in the midday sunlight before disappearing beyond the rocks into the air.

"Come this way – we will climb down the stone steps over here," the Nutcracker said, gesturing with his arm that she should go ahead of him.

Bree paused a moment, savoring the view. Before her was laid out the all of Fantasia, it's rolling hills and its brush-like trees still as if formed by a master artisan. Each white formation held its own innate beauty sculpted so perfectly. The bionic couldn't help but smile, enjoying the way the sun's soft rays caressed her face and how the cool air did not.

She finally broke away from her paralysis, stepping carefully along the edge until she found the trees that lined the rough-hewn stairwell running down along the cliff. With a nod of affirmation from the Nutcracker, she began making her way down it with him close behind.

She was terribly startled when she heard loud laughter right in her ear, and she jumped to face the noise, sending pebbles cascading into the air and down the barren cliffs behind her. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she gulped. She would have been more frightened if more laughter hadn't caught her attention.

Eye-level directly to her left was a chunky little man the size of her hand dancing on the rocks. He had chestnut-colored skin and a pointy little beard of bristly greens, a floppy red hat resting on his head. He let out a booming laugh for his small size, the sound wracking his whole body; his merriness could not be understated.

A multitude of other tiny men came scampering into view, chortling with unparalleled fervor as they jigged to a bouncy little tune played by one of them on a lute. They seemed to swarm the rocks and trees, swinging from the branches and leaping from height to height.

"These are the Pine Gnomes," Bree comprehended, unable to keep a smile of amusement from her features.

"Yes, they are – they're fun, aren't they?" the Nutcracker laughed, retracting the hand he had extended in order to catch Bree should she fall. "Let's keep going now so that we can get off of these perilous stairs."

The two of them carefully continued on their way, Bree tracing her fingers along the rocky wall, making sure to avoid any of the tiny mischief-makers. She was almost sad when their bubbly laughter began to fade as they stopped following them; they were wrapped in silence by the time they reached the bottom.

The bionic looked behind her, taking in the large cliff they had just scaled. The waterfall lay hundreds of meters behind them. Turning back to her nutcracker, she asked "Where to now?"

"We will head east, where my palace lies. This way," he replied, leading her out of the shadow of the rocks above and along an iced country road that weaved its way around fields and small outcrops of trees. Hopping from rough patch to rough patch or slowly slipping across icy spots when needed, they made their way along. Bree was beginning to grow a little cold by this time, so she hugged her arms to herself as they walked.

The bionic was staring avidly at the frozen ground when the Nutcracker asked "What is that?" and stopped in place. She stopped as well, looking up to see what the Nutcracker might be talking about. She followed his pointing finger to the brush on their left, and her breath caught.

Large, beautiful black eyes stared back through the branches, his pure white fur blending with the snow almost perfectly. Rising from his head were smooth, shining antlers, appearing to be of ivory. The rack was large and broad, the numerous points twisting around each other gracefully.

"The Stag," the Nutcracker breathed, his eyes wide with wonder.

"What's so special about the Stag?" Bree asked in an undertone.

But she received no answer for the Prince bounded after the quickly retreating Stag. She took off after him, bursting through the brush to see no Stag and her confused nutcracker whirling around as he searched for the mysterious animal.

"Where…?" was the silent question on his lips, and he turned to stare at her. "No one ever catches the Stag," he told her aloud.

She glanced around again, searching through the surrounding trees and bushes. A glint caught her eye, and she focused in through the hole in a loose nest of frosted branches. The harsh ringing of small brass bells faded into existence.

"Hey, I think something's coming," Bree said, stepping into the clearing next to the Nutcracker, shifting into a ready position. Her eyes did not deceive her – whatever it was, it was getting closer and in little time it would be upon them. She considered speeding them away, but the Prince's stance deterred that course of action.

The sound of bells overwhelmed them before the clearing was broken by scruffy reindeer pulling an elegant yet simple sleigh, the ensemble coming to rest directly in front of them. The driver stared at them for a moment before setting aside his reins and turning behind him to dig through his cargo.

The Nutcracker stepped forward with a wary Bree in tow, walking right up to the rustic red sleigh, the Nutcracker setting his hand on the rough wood. "St. Nicolas, I welcome you to my kingdom," the Prince said amiably.

The driver in the sleigh turned back to face them, giving them a rosy smile underneath his voluminous white beard. He wore a worn green coat decorated with gold thread and red embroidery, white fur cuffs meeting his cream-colored gloves.

"St. Nicolas, as in Santa Clause?" Bree asked in astonishment.

The Nutcracker was confused by this, but St. Nicolas smiled, saying "Yes, child. I am one and the same, and I am here to give you both gifts."

The eyes of the two younger people lit up, and the old man chuckled. Turning to face the Nutcracker, St. Nicolas handed him an ornate box. The Nutcracker took it, opening it easily to find an exquisite pin, appearing as a diamond-decked shield and sword.

"May you know yourself and be true," St. Nicolas said kindly.

"Thank you," the Nutcracker breathed.

Turning to Bree again, the old man handed her a box of her own, saying "And may you be filled with the Christmas spirit."

Bree let her gaze focus on the box, delicately opening it to reveal a sparkling necklace of a dove. She couldn't help a gasp at its beauty, tears wetting her eyes.

She looked up to see that St. Nicolas was seated again, his reigns in hand. "Merry Christmas!" he cried out before snapping the reigns, and with that the reindeer took off. It wasn't long before they had disappeared.

Bree looked to her nutcracker, speechless. She could tell that he was smiling under his mask as he said "Come, let us continue our journey. It will not be long now."


	4. The Palace Ball

**AN: Imma slacker, this is why I try to finish stories before I post them, I'm so sorry, please excuse any errors, I'm rushed, please enjoy, and Merry Christmas!**

* * *

"Wow," Bree breathed in awe. "Your castle is beautiful!"

"I'm glad my humble home strikes your fancy," the Nutcracker replied.

"Humble?" Bree asked, raising her eyebrow. The castle was still in the distance, but it could be seen rising over the trees, its sweeping white towers dancing into the sky.

The bionic could practically feel his hidden smile as she took his proffered hand, and the two of them began slipping and sliding down the slick path to the bottom of the hill. Their boots made scraping noises on any patch of gravel they encountered, sending the sound ringing in the valley.

"Whoa, watch out!" Bree exclaimed as she grabbed the Nutcracker's arm with both of her hands to keep him from losing his footing. He yelped, catching himself by holding onto her with his free arm, and they steadied.

"Okay, ready?" the bionic asked gently.

"Yes," the Nutcracker hissed, extracting his arm from hers and cradling it.

"Oh my gosh, that was your injured arm," Bree realized with wide eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, it is well," he forced out, shaking his head before continuing on his way. Bree followed after him, feeling quite deflated.

They shuffled in silence, breathing more at ease upon their arrival at the bottom of that treacherous hill. The bionic continually glanced at her nutcracker, wishing she could see the man under the mask. He kept his silence as he waited the passing of the pain, and Bree only wanted to comfort him. But she held back.

They entered a draping evergreen forest that sparkled in the soft sunlight that had been watered down by the clouds overhead by that time. The trees blanketed them in passive shadows, little creatures scritching in the branches and peering at them with their big, bright eyes. Bree's unease must have been palpable, because the Nutcracker turned back to her to crinkle his eyes encouragingly. Trusting him by that point, she allowed herself to relax and simply watch the passing forest.

As a gust of wind suddenly wove through the pines, tinkling filled the air. Bree looked up and around, wondering if it was more magical music, but the Nutcracker knocked into her and covered her with his body. She was about to splutter when daggers of ice impaled the snow around them.

After a moment into the following silence, the Nutcracker rolled off of her and helped her up.

"What was that?" Bree asked shakily.

"Icicles – beautiful when they hang like exquisite Christmas décor, but when the wind blows – well, my lady, they sing their sweet little battle cry."

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"No," he waved her off. "They break on my back – they do not dare to harm their prince."

Bree raised her eyebrows, but she didn't question him. Instead, she brushed herself off and continued to accompany him through the rest of the forest. It was with relief that they made it out and Bree no longer had to eye the little glass knives dangling above them.

Emerging back into the open air, Bree could see that through the rolling hills, orange little lights glimmered amongst the whiteness. With squinted scrutiny, she realized that these were the warm lights within cozy huts nestled together. As the sky darkened with the oncoming twilight, their brightness grew in contrast to the graying snow.

Bree and her nutcracker were reaching the cobbled streets as the medieval city was lighting their streetlamps, and cries of greeting met the two of them.

Bree beamed down at the little people – for they were only as tall as her elbows. Even in the low yellow lighting, Bree could tell that they radiated a natural golden color. Their cheerful, unintelligible chatter only increased the innocence of their enthusiasm for the arrivals, and they swarmed the two, guiding them along the path while still atop their heels and bumping into their knees.

The bionic gave her nutcracker a sideways glance, but his eyes were bright with joy and pride in his little people. The atmosphere was contagious, and Bree couldn't help the merry little laughs that arose within her.

When they reached the gate to the glowing blue-white castle, they stopped and stared through the curling silver bars. Bree's head craned back so that she could see the twisting, spiraled towers that glittered against the clouds that were already parting to reveal a starry sky and a luminous moon. Bringing her sight closer to earth, she saw the Leo soldiers standing sentinel along the wall guarding the castle, regal and silent. The little golden people hushed, and all were as silent as the soldiers.

Bree shifted in place as she waited for something to happen. Should she say something? Should she do something? She bit her lip, but that was as much as she moved. She waited, and they all waited.

Little sparkling lights floated into existence, circling around the gates to open them. Others began spinning similarly to the ones earlier that morning, and a radiant woman materialized.

"Tasha?" Bree gasped, and the Nutcracker in turn gave her his own sideways look.

"Hail the Sugar Plum Queen!" the soldiers and the golden people cried, and all took a knee. Bree followed suit, but the Prince remained standing.

"Mother," he smiled, stepping forward to embrace her.

Letting go of the Nutcracker, the Sugar Plum Fairy turned to Bree and gestured that she should rise. The bionic did, and the Fairy Queen said, "Thank you for bringing my son home safe and sound – we have much to honor you for. Come, dine with us, and we shall throw you a ball in your honor."

Bree gaped a moment before stammering, "That- that would be – lovely." Her stomach growled to remind her of what a long day it had been, and her cheeks flushed.

"Come, let's get you two warmed and refreshed," Tasha the fairy said quickly, and she again gestured, this time that Bree should join her and the Nutcracker. The bionic did, and the travelers were ushered into a horse-drawn sleigh that had just pulled up. "I will see you both later this evening," Tasha smiled, and she vanished in her magical sparkles. Taking it as his cue, the sleigh driver cracked the reins, and with that the sleigh began its gliding journey to the ice castle.

"What is a 'tasha'?" the Nutcracker asked Bree.

"What?"

"A 'tasha' – you said it when my mother appeared."

"Oh, nothing – she just reminded me of someone," Bree blushed.

"Ah."

They remained silent for the rest of the short little sleigh ride, Bree marveling at her surroundings. When they pulled into a tunnel on the side of the castle, the sleigh-driver clucked, slowing the sleigh to a stop.

Bree slid out with the Nutcracker right behind, passing by the nickering horses to follow the servants who had appeared. Inside, the walls were ice, but the floors were of stone. Gilded pictures lined the hallways among the torches. Between the torches and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, warm light bounced and shimmered all around, giving everything a golden feel.

As she began ascending a twirling staircase, she looked back to see that the Nutcracker had disappeared. She turned back to the servant ahead of her. "Where did the Prince go? Where are you taking me?"

"The Prince has gone to his quarters, and we are taking you to yours. You must get ready for the wonderful ball tonight!" the tiny gold-radiating servant replied.

It wasn't long before the servants were opening large, wooden double-doors to a warmly-lit room. It exuded the same safe, welcoming air as the rest of the castle, as well as its royal dignity. The high ceilings arced over the large room, a massive, sparkling chandelier causing the warm light to tickle every surface.

"This is huge," Bree said in awe, wandering over to the massive white bed.

"Your maids will come shortly to assist your preparation." With that, the little servants bowed and exited.

"What kind of preparation are we talking about?" Bree wondered.

* * *

"Wow," Bree breathed, unable to wipe the grin from her face. She couldn't keep her eyes from her reflection.

After hours of scrubbing, trimming, smoothing, fitting, and delicate decorating, the sweet little maids had made a travel-weary girl into a stunning figure of elegance. She wore a flowing, sky-blue dress that glittered, white swirls twirling across her form. The sleeves were long and hung from her wrists, the tail of the dress gliding over the floor behind her. The neck of the dress hugged her throat and reached for her chin, a diamond-adorned necklace sparkling over her bosom.

She blinked, her long, thick eyelashes seeming to shimmer with the magical ice that had been frozen to the tips. The skin of her face had been scrubbed and smoothed, rose blushing her cheeks and pink ghosting her lips. Her hair had been piled on top of her head in curls, clear jewels that peeked from within them catching the light as she moved. Earrings swung and sparkled with similar jewels.

Never before had she felt so beautiful.

The large wooden doors of her bedroom opened for her, and she clicked through them after the little servants who pranced ahead of her. Several hallways and a small flight of stairs later, Bree found herself stopped at another set of massive, wooden double doors. A soft hum trickled through them.

"Are you ready, miss?" a little servant asked her.

She nodded with a small swallow, and the doors creaked open. A hush swept over the large room she was about to enter before a small fanfare of horns greeted her.

"The lady of the night!" a booming voice announced, and Bree turned a deeper shade of pink. What had she done to deserve such a grand entrance?

As if to answer her silent question, the voice continued, "Lady Bree has saved the Prince and accompanied him home – forever Fantasia is in her debt!"

Bree found the speaker, and her eyes widened in surprise. The masked magician! As people began to mill about again, she politely shooed the servants from assisting her and lifted up her skirts, climbing down the glimmering stairs as quickly as she safely could. When she looked up to reaffirm where he was, he had disappeared. She huffed in frustration.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Bree heard from behind her, and she whipped around to find that it was the Nutcracker.

"So do you – er, I mean, you look very handsome," Bree stuttered awkwardly. It was true, though – he had changed into clean, lighter clothes rich with adornment on creamy white. A rich, red cape hung from his shoulders, a crown glittering upon his masked head. "You're still wearing your mask?"

She could tell that he was smiling underneath. "It is more than a mask, my lady. It is an identity."

Bree frowned at that, but she didn't comment. Instead, she looked over all of the guests. They were of all shapes, sizes, and colors, many seeming to hail from exotic lands where the laws of reality seemed to have no hold. One man was dressed in gold pants and a shimmering vest, easily swinging and twirling around a vertically floating rope as he laughed with those he held in conversation. Another strange character was a large woman, her skirts making a ten-foot radius about her. They swished as if invisible creatures bustled about beneath them.

"How did all of these people get here so quickly?" Bree asked.

"Why, the Sugar Plum Fairy, of course," the Prince replied.

"Well, um, okay." She suspected that it had to do with some kind of magic. She looked back at her nutcracker, her eyes catching the lack of bandages. She reached up to touch where they should have been.

The Nutcracker watched her, saying, "Mother has healed it. It is as good as new."

Bree studied him, fingering the broach St. Nicolas had given him. It shone with a new radiance, as if it had a magic of its own. "This looks very nice on you."

"Thank you."

She stepped away from him again, glancing at his masked face again before looking over more of the guests.

"Is there anyone you are wishing to speak with?"

"No, not really – I'm just curious about a lot of these people."

"Your curiosity will be satisfied in due time," the Prince said with a smile that must have been sly. "Come – will you join me at our table?"

Bree looked back him in surprise. "I'm sitting at your royal table?"

"You are the guest of honor."

"I don't know if I can get used to that," she said, but she smiled, taking his proffered elbow anyway. As they were weaving through the other guests, Bree caught sight of a familiar purple vestment, and she tore away from the Nutcracker in a rush.

"My lady!" he complained after her, but she paid him no mind. Instead, she planted herself right in front of the masked stranger, interrupting his conversation and causing him to slightly choke on his drink.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

"Pardon me?"

"Did you use your magic to bring me here? I mean, I'm not complaining, but you have to let me go home at some point, right?"

"My lady…" he frowned underneath his glittering mask.

"Don't play ignorant with me – you were at the party in my home, dancing and performing and giving the place life. You were there!"

"Bree," the Nutcracker said gently from behind her, laying his hand on her shoulder. "Let my brother alone – you are weary from our journey. Come be nourished with me."

"Your brother?" Bree asked, astonished.

"Bree, it is? It was nice to meet you, but I do have to advise you to go with my brother," the masked man said.

"But-" Bree began, but she was firmly guided away by the Nutcracker. She frowned, pulling herself free to walk with the Prince of her own will. When they had skirted around the long table, he pulled out a chair for her, inviting her to sit. She did and he followed suit, but she refused to try starting any conversation with him. He seemed to sense this, refraining from saying more than was polite.

Bree's eyes found their way to the magician, and she tracked his every move. She just knew he was lying – how else could she have gotten to Fantasia? Would she be trapped in the mystical world forever?

If she was honest with herself, she hadn't been thinking much of her home, though. The sights and wonders she'd been experiencing had been magical – and seemed far more exciting than her mundane life of bionics with a crazy family in a California mansion. For one, everything was beautiful – was _perfect_. And there weren't any brothers around to annoy her. And break her stuff.

In Fantasia, she was a heroine, treated like a princess. And she had a feeling that if she were to use her bionics, it wouldn't be so weird. She'd be the everyday, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary distinguished lady.

A clinking spoon rang through the air, the sound growing into the chorus of hundreds of tinkling bells. The chatter melted into silence, and the magician's voice filled the room. Wait, when had Bree lost track of him? She blinked back her confusion and focused on him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my father, the High King of Fantasia!" the magician announced grandly. Trumpets sounded, and from the doors that opened behind the head seats strode a man of much grandeur. He wore splendid clothes of royal purple and gold, a crown that reached for the sky clinging to his head. He smiled and waved his hand in acknowledgement to his guests and subjects, the sparkling form of the Sugar Plum Fairy materializing beside him.

 _She looks exactly like Tasha, and he looks exactly like Davenport,_ Bree thought to herself. She squinted at them more from down the table, and still their likenesses remained. Her thoughts drifted back to that earlier morning, to the battle of the rats. All of those Leos and Marcus'… they had to be of her dreamings. Davenport and Tasha – they must be as well. It was all a dream, it was all a dream.

Bree was snapped from her flurry of thoughts by the King's quick claps from where he and the Sugar Plum Fairy were seated. People began meandering to their seats, and the bionic looked around to finally notice a raised platform just across the room with lush décor adorning it. Once everyone was seated, the lights dimmed so that a single beam floated over the platform – _a stage,_ she realized.

Onto it, from the sides, twittered flowery little people, tiptoeing about as a bird might flutter from branch to branch. Their delicate movements mimicked the piccolo and flute accompaniment.

Their performance didn't last long, however, before rotund little men bobbled onto the stage after their graceful depart. The little men bounced around, knocking into each other almost as if it was there dance – Bree had the suspicion that it was.

Next to the stage was the woman with the enormous skirts, and Bree was surprised to realize that her earlier observation hadn't been absurd – there really were little beings rushing about under the skirts! Children! Such children with rosy little cheeks like apples.

Many such acts revealed themselves, showing off their unique, beautiful cultures. Animals were led through routines, Arabic-appearing people made human towers, and ladies as flower petals splashed the stage with color. Bree was entranced, soaking herself within the splendor of it all.

As a small group of men spun and dipped to unbelievably fast music, the Prince leaned over to her, whispering, "We're next."

"What?" Bree wasn't sure if she'd heard right.

"We're the final act – we're next."

"What! Why? I don't know how to dance!"

"This celebration is in our honor – we are the finale."

Bree gulped, her heart fluttering and her breath coming up short. "I don't know what to do up there – I can't dance! Not like that, at least. I mean, we didn't practice, we didn't prepare anything! And how do I dance in this?!"

Clapping broke out among the guests and subjects seated, and the Prince rose to his feet. He proffered his hand to Bree. "Come, let us dance for joy on this day, and share it with our people gathered to celebrate it with us."

Bree stared up at him, and his eyes crinkled kindly.

"Come."


	5. Finale

Bree stood, accepting the Nutcracker's hand. The moment she touched it, her world became white. When it cleared, she found that she and the Prince were standing hand in hand in the center of the stage, and the Sugar Plum Fairy smiled from where the remaining sparkles of magic trailed from her fingers.

She looked away from the crowd, trying not to think about where she was. Her eyes landed on the Nutcracker, and she was surprised to see that he was wearing a sky-blue suit that matched her dress. She looked down at her own dress, her eyes widening at the change. Instead of her regal, flowing dress, she wore a sky-blue tutu that sparkled under the spotlight. Her diamond necklace had been replaced by the simple dove necklace St. Nicolas had given her.

The soft caresses of violins feathered the air, the Nutcracker asking, "Shall we?"

"I don't know what to do," Bree stuttered.

She could see the smile in his eyes, and it was the only response she got from him. He gently laid his hand on her waist, and she reached up to rest her arm on his shoulder, their other hands locked together as he swayed her a few simple steps.

 _This isn't so bad,_ she thought, blinking under the bright light that flashed in her eyes when they turned a certain way. She squinted into the Prince's eyes, and for the first time, she was struck with a sense of familiarity. They were chocolaty, doe-eyed orbs that seemed to change emotions like the rolling of the sea. It was almost as if he was… confused.

"Who are you under that mask?" she whispered. "Why do I feel like I know you?"

"Why do I feel like I know you?" he repeated at a softer volume. Before she could comment on it, he said, "The music quickens – follow me." With that, he let go of her waist to twirl her around. She was surprised by this, but she was even more surprised by the way she seemed to know just what to do. Her body seemed to move on its own, but if felt natural. She snuck a glance into the audience to meet the eyes of the stranger, and she immediately knew that he had something to do with it.

She looked back to the Nutcracker to see that he looked bewildered. "I don't understand," he breathed.

"Your brother's helping us dance – he's controlling our movements," Bree explained.

"Just like at the party," he murmured.

"Wait, what?"

The spun around again, parting to each prance to their own parts of the stage and dance to each other. Bree's slippered toes merely tapped the stage, while the Nutcracker leapt and splayed his arms gracefully. After closing to each other in wavering little strides, their hands met and they spun yet again.

"Did you say 'at the party'?" Bree asked.

The Prince squinted, his eyes crossing a little. "I think so – with that magician guy."

"What!"

He picked her up and twirled her in the air; she had to hold back a cry of surprise, and before long, she was back on the ground with him.

"At my house, Davenport's lame party?"

"Yes, I'm remembering now – but, but it doesn't make sense…"

They slowed, circling around each other until the Nutcracker guided Bree into a backwards swan pose. As they panted through the clapping, Bree gasped, "Who are you?"

He reached up with his other hand to pull off the mask, and Bree might have fell back in shock if he hadn't been holding her.

"Bree, I only just remembered who I am, who I really am. I'm so sorry," the Nutcraker – _Adam_ – said, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry I broke your nutcracker."

"Well, I guess you kind of broke yourself," Bree chuckled. Her face fell serious as she searched his face. "How did you not remember that you are Adam Davenport?"

"I don't know," he shrugged from his pose. They seemed to be locked in it, but neither noticed so much as they tried to figure out what was going on. "All I know is that I'm really sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother."

"Me too," a voice said, and those words seemed to release them from whatever magic had been guiding them. The stood up to face the figure of the masked stranger. The three of them seemed to no longer be a part of any world, but simply under a lone spotlight in the dark.

Adam and Bree glanced at each other, Bree asking, "You did this to us?"

"No." The magician ducked his head to take off his mask, revealing the boy underneath.

"Chase," Bree gasped.

"I think I was under the same spell as you two, because I didn't remember my true identity until now either." He stepped forward so that the three of them stood in a tight triangle. "I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother. I didn't mean to totally destroy your phone, and I'm sorry I couldn't get it to work again."

"Bree, you're an awesome sister, but sometimes we don't treat you like it," Adam began.

"We love you, Bree – can you forgive us?" Chase finished.

Tears welled in the middle bionic's eyes. "Of course I do – you guys mean more to me than stuff. And you're pretty great brothers, too."

"Really?" Chase asked.

"Really," Bree affirmed. The three of them went in for a affectionate hug, gripping each other tightly as only siblings can. Bree smiled, peace coming down on her.

When they faded from her grasp like snow on a warm window, she only smiled and closed her eyes. She knew the adventure had come to an end, and she let the quiet sweep her away into the night.

The quiet brought her back to her senses again, and she squinted in the bright, early-morning light as she sat up. She was still on the couch, still in her emerald-colored party dress. Bree lifted her hand to rub her face, feeling her greasy, slightly-smeared makeup and frizzy hair. She blinked a few times more, giving up any hope of looking decent and just knuckling her eyes. A yawn escaped her.

Loud talking shattered the morning haze, the bionic boys tromping into the main living area. They stopped in place, looking around at the mess that hadn't been cleaned up. Their eyes landed on their sister.

" 'Mornin', Breezy," Adam chuckled. "Sleep well?"

Bree shot him a pouty glare, stifling another yawn.

Chase frowned. "She slept so well that she broke her nutcracker again." He strode over to her, pointing out the doll that peeked out from underneath her and the little arm that lay on the ground. "You must have rolled onto it," he scolded his sister.

Bree blinked awake a little more. "Did you say… again? You weren't at the party last night."

It was Chase's turn to blink. "Uh, Adam told me about it."

"What? No I didn't," Adam said with confusion.

"You _were_ at the party – you were the magician after all, weren't you?" Bree accused.

Chase balked. "W-what makes you think that?"

"You're taking the broken nutcracker kind of seriously, and it kind of makes sense if you were the magician – but I never thought you'd ever be that goofy."

"Uh…"

"You used your telekinesis and your override app, didn't you? And a cyber mask that disguised your voice underneath that sparkly mask?"

"It _was_ you!" Adam gasped dramatically.

Chase was beat red by that point. "Okay, yeah, I was the magician."

"I knew it all along!" Adam proclaimed.

Bree shot him a look before turning back to Chase. "What threw we off was that you were so silly."

"Well, uh, I guess," Chase began. "I guess that when I'm wearing a mask, I can do whatever I want without people laughing at _me_ me."

"Well, you are very good at playing the part," Bree smirked, finally standing up. Her mind reeled beyond the groggy exterior – her dream had been _right_. How did that happen? And what kind of dream had it been? She still remembered a lot of it pretty clearly, but already it was starting to fade.

"Yeah, it was actually awesome," Adam added, snapping Bree back to the present. "Thanks for the toys!"

"The nutcracker was really nice until Adam broke it," Bree said, shooting her older brother a mock-upset look.

"I'm sorry about that, Bree," Adam apologized, looking like a kicked puppy.

"And I'm sorry about your phone – I couldn't fix it," Chase tacked on.

Bree looked between them, a strong sense of déjà vu bringing a smile to her face. With a forgiving smile, she said, "I'm sorry about the way I talked to you guys last night – you mean more to me than stuff, like phones and nutcrackers. That's Christmas spirit, right?"

Adam and Chase smiled, and Bree found herself in another sibling embrace – and this time it was real. She closed her eyes with a small smile. Just like the Nutcracker and the magician had taken care of her, she knew her real brothers would too. They loved her, and she loved them. And that's all that mattered.

* * *

 **AN: A sweet ending to a cute little story... that took way too long to write :S Sorry peeps! I hope you did at least enjoy the final two chapters, even if they were a little forced.**

 **I'd like to give a shout out to everyone who followed and favorited this story! A special shout out to those who reviewed: BeautifulSupernova, daphrose, Dirtkid123, EmotionalDreamer101, Guest, Lea Ootori, PurpleNicole531, tennisgirl77, and last but not least, T. F. Crosby! Thank you all of you for putting up with my infrequent updates and still giving me kind feedback - y'all rock!**

 **Well, that's pretty much all for now. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Years!**

 **Asori out.**


End file.
